Dear Earth, Love Mars

What would you miss most about Earth? (If we all had to move to Mars?)

A LOVE LETTER TO EARTH FOR EARTH DAY 2017

We asked some people to tell us what they would miss most about Earth should we all have to move to Mars. Then, we compiled their answers together into a beautiful love letter. Our hope is that by imagining something gone we might enjoy it that much more.

I miss witnessing the changing of your seasons each filled with their own beauty.

I miss how your freckles lit up at night to the sound of Earth’s anthems.

I miss the blooming beautiful blossoms in spring time and the smell of freshly cut grass.

I miss taking naps in your lush green stems.

I miss that refreshing smell after a long rain. Summer showers just aren’t the same around here.

I miss the rainbow that happens in the sweet spot after a storm. The way the sunlight would bend, arc and disperse in such a way that I got to experience the full spectrum of colors.

I miss your waves; waves of water, of sound and light, of hello and goodbye, and the ebbs and flows of change. I miss the sound of them crashing and lapping on the beach.

I miss swimming naked. The sun setting in the open water, willing me forward with adventure and kissing my skin.

I miss the smell of seaweed on the coast of Normandie. Breathing your lovely air and the spray of the sea on my face as I walked along the beach.

I miss the feeling of sand between my toes.

I miss your natural hot springs…. we lost all the ones on Mars about 3 billion years ago.

I miss my friends.

I miss your rolling hills and lively forests.

I miss your trees. Looking at them. Reading under them. Hearing them. Building forts of questionable structural integrity on them. Observing the seasons through them. Witnessing all the different subtle shades of green.

I miss camping with friends and circling fire pits with s’mores under the stars.

I miss your fresh soil and the ability to grow my own food. I miss fruit! Seeds don’t sprout or grow here. I miss picking berries with delight and tending gardens with love.

I miss your various funk-a-licious fungi. Of many shapes and sizes and stylistic persuasions. Mars is pretty but the mushrooms are lacking.

I miss being the third rock from the sun. Because 3rd place is at least bronze. No one ever remembers 4th place. Haha jk.

I miss the sheer volume and variety of species of animals that existed, and the wondrous, awe inspiring habitat they called home. From the albatross to the zebra, from the dodo to the thylacine, we shall never again see their creativity, adaptability or intelligence.

I miss hummingbirds, bears, buffalo, and even mosquitoes! I miss the wonderful flying creatures we called birds.

I miss your otters. Here on Mars, animals don’t hold hands.

I miss cats. There are no cats on Mars.

I miss the feeling of leaving the house without atmosphere suits on. These suits are tight and sticky (the scientists say they are working on it) and I can’t feel the breeze on my skin. They are are also working on artificial wind. Who knows how long that’s going to be. Everything takes for-ev-er here.

I simply miss not being able to breathe without a helmet on.

Sigh. What have we done? My heart is heavy. I stare at the red sand on this silent rock and I look up to you in the sky. I don’t remember what the emerald blue of your reefs looks like anymore. It breaks my heart. My eyes turn numb to the monotone landscape in front of me. There’s missing colors everywhere I look. Missing vibrations from your living force, from the thunder, the rain, from the music and the wind, the creeks in the heat and the growls in the peaceful night. Who am I if not part of you? As the tear that leaves the suffering body only to fade, where am I going without you?